


Feelings to Feed Upon

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gothicish, Involuntary use of drugs, M/M, Master/slave like relationship, Peter is special, Petopher Appreciation Week, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, The author does not know what to tag, Torture, but this is not BDSM, dub con, stockholme syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-07 19:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8813764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: PETOPHER APPRECIATION WEEK: Free for AllChris Argent is looking for the monster who caused his family to be killed; Deucalion, the demon wolf. It started out as an obsession and it twisted him to the man he is today. Now he collects their teeth and nails while they are in wolf form and kills them.  Melissa's family was also killed by werewolves. They work together. One day eighteen year old Peter Hale is caught in one of Argent's traps while his pack was hunting Deucalion.**This fic is on permanent hiatus as I am unable to come up with an ending.**4-4-2016**Chris hasn't had feelings for another person since he held his dead sister in his arms. There is no way a cub like Peter Hale could worm his way into Chris' black heart. He would not suddenly become a romantic hero or have less blood on his hands. He would not suddenly be a hero. He was what he was. All Peter wants is to survive and take Erica Reyes with him to freedom. Trouble is, he does not know that Erica is dead.NOTE: This fic is NOT nice and fluffy.:)NOTE: Fic is on hold indefinitely. Do not expect it to be finished.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and let me know what you think.:) More will be coming. I could not finish whole fic for Petopher Week.

“I have this net  
It drags behind me  
It picks up feelings  
For me to feed upon”  
-”The Collector” Nine Inch Nails.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here.

“ _None have made it past the full moon, Peter, you have to do it. You have to survive.”_ Erica pleaded with him. “ _You promised to save me, to take me with you when you leave! You can’t starve!”_  
  
Argent stood at the door to Peter’s cell with a plate of food in one hand. It smelled good and Peter was so, so hungry. “Come here, Peter.” Christopher clicked his fingers together. “As I’ve instructed.”  
  
Peter’s feet still ached. He scuttled forward tentatively. The idea of doing what he was expected to do went against his very nature. The eighteen year old werewolf had never submitted to anyone in his life and he didn’t want to start now.  
  
But he was _starving_ and _terrified_ .  Argent had already punished him that day. He didn’t want a repeat of that humiliation.  
  
This was worse though.  
  
Peter looked over at Erica’s shadow in the other cell. She was the only reason he was still alive in this dark place. The only reason he had the will to continue. He knew better now than to look Argent in the eye so he lowered his head.  
  
When Peter didn’t budge, Chris sighed. “I had high hopes  you would be cooperative today.” He picked up a carrot from the plate and munched on it. “If you’re going to behave like a dog, then you can eat like a dog.”  
  
He poured half the contents of the plate on the floor and mashed it with his boot.  “Provided the rats don’t get it first.”  
  
Chris closed the door and chuckled softly. The glow from Argent’s flashlight faded as he moved down the dungeon hallway away from Peter’s cell and darkness surrounded him again.  
  
Peter waited until he was sure Argent was gone and scrambled over to the food. He scraped at it with his fingers and got most of it up. It was barely a few swallows and nothing to drink again. He doubled over and clawed at his stomach with a painful whimper.  The food was laced with mountain ash.  Pain shot through him and blood dripped out of his nostrils.

He could not even take comfort in Erica’s concerned voice in his head. “ _I told you Peter. You have to do it next time. It’s only going to get worse what he puts in it_. “

Next time. Two days from now? Three days?  Argent’s visits weren’t consistent.  
  
He would not submit.  
  
*

Time passed and he woke with a start as that same steel toed boot kicked him in the gut. Peter flinched when it struck him in the ribs and  Argent crouched down to grab his.

“You stink,” complained the hunter. He abruptly let go and Peter’s head fell to the stone floor with a sickening thud. “You’ve lasted longer than the others. Alright, on your feet.”

Peter didn’t move. It hurt too much to move. The iron cut into his ankles and he could barely lift his arm up to shield his eyes from the flashlight.  
  
“On your feet, cub.” Argent barked at him.  
  
“ _One day soon he’ll take you up_ .” Erica whispered at him earlier from the other cell. She had crooned softly and petted his hair through the bars. She’d told him she was there for  him. She encouraged him to stay strong. _“It’s beautiful up there. My favorite place is the vault._ ”

Peter spat out blood and staggered to his aching feet. They had been burned a few days prior with coal rods between his toes and actual flames against his flesh. The point of that was to keep him from being able to run and he had been told that wouldn’t be the first time.  He looked towards the dark side of the other cell and tried to find Erica again but she was hidden from view.  
  
“What are you looking for?” Argent asked him, lips curled.  
  
“Nothing,” muttered Peter.  Erica had made him promise not to talk about their discussions. Chris would be mad, and she didn’t want that. They weren’t supposed to talk.  
  
“Come,” said Argent as he turned and walked ahead of him. “Keep up, kid. It’s a long way.”

Peter grunted. He had no idea how long he’d been down there. It felt like forever and any sort of light hurt his eyes. Each step was intolerable and he couldn’t understand why this was happening to him. He remembered vaguely something a trap and getting knocked out. He remembered not being able to howl a response when his pack called for him. He remembered mountain ash down his throat. There had been a lot of pain and humiliation since then. He’d only been given enough food to keep a person alive. If it weren’t for Erica, the female werewolf in the cell next to him, he would be grovelling by now. He knew she was badly injured. She refused to show him her face. Her hands-,he shuddered.

Was that going to happen to him?  
  
Argent opened a steel door after using a retinal scan, a fingerprint and a voice activated security system confirming identity. Sunlight streamed in from huge windows as he stepped out into it.

Peter whined and tried to shield himself. It had been too long since he’d seen daylight.  
  
Argent was surprisingly gentle sounding. “You’ll adjust in a minute. Keep moving. Close your eyes if you must and follow my footsteps.”  
  
Peter knew better, the man had taken a sort of gruesome delight every time he was hurt. There was something incredibly wrong with him.  
  
It was cold. This place, there was no joy here. The colors were muted and everything on display was ancient, stuffy and priceless. After a while he did gain back control of his site and was able to look around. The walls were stone and the great hall they were walking down was sparsely but fashionably decorated. Out the window he saw forest and hills as far as the eye could see.  
  
Occasionally he noticed old weapons on display, as if they were the prizes of a collection. They moved slowly down the main hallway and up a spiral staircase then down another. Peter began to become lightheaded. His feet left a trail of blood which Argent didn’t look happy about. Finally, Argent opened up the doors to a spacious and lavishly decorated bedroom. “Mountain Ash surrounds this place. You can’t get out and I have a state of the art security system and,” he paused. “What?”  
  
Peter stared. He just couldn’t help it. He hadn’t seen Christopher Argent in the light since he’d got there. And holy god was he was a handsome fucker. His mouth may have dropped open a little as he drank in the sight. He was older than Peter initially thought, there was silver in his beard but it didn’t make that any less sexy. He wore a pair of jeans snug on his ass and a white t-shirt. He had strong arms and tats that Peter had a sudden inexplicable desire to lick. His blue eyes were steel diamonds, piercing and unapologetic. He had muscles on his arms you only get from honing your body into a weapon. Peter swallowed, unable to form words.

Chris gave out a low, cruel chuckle. “Like what you see?”  
  
Peter glared at him.  
  
Chris ignored the glare and took Peter to the bathroom. He placed a key in the wolf’s trembling hand. “Unlock your irons, get in the tub, and bathe.” He sat down on a stool and looked passive.

“You’re going to watch?”  
  
“Unlock your irons, get in the tub, and bathe.” Chris repeated.  
  
Peter bent down to unlock the iron, but as soon as he was out of them he lunged and Chris easily dodged. He lunged again and Chris pulled out his taser and Peter was down on the floor.  
  
Chris sighed. “Maybe next time. I’m not fucking a dirty little cub like you.” He made a fist and knocked Peter out.

Peter woke again back in the cell, disoriented and unsure what had happened. Erica wasn’t there to comfort him. Not right away.

*

Time passed, more of the same. He wouldn’t lick Chris’ boots.

Chris had a boot to his neck when he came to this time. “On your feet, cub.”

Once again, Chris took him back to the luxury bedroom and gave him the key to his irons.  
  
Once again, Peter attacked him and failed to land a blow.  
  
*  
  
“Y _ou’re getting weaker_ ,” Erica’s voice came to his ears. He woke up groggily and struggled into a sitting position. “ _I’m worried Peter, you’re not the wolf I thought you were. How can you rescue me if you can’t do what he says.”_ _  
_ _  
_ “I’m a Hale.” Peter whimpered and pulled his legs up to his chest. Where was his pack? Why weren’t they trying to rescue him?  His stomach hurt so much now. He knew he needed a proper meal for his healing to kick in. His feet felt numb and he wasn’t sure if he could actually stand again.

“ _Just do what he wants_ .” Erica pleaded. “ _Please, Peter. I’ve been alone so long._ ”

She was right. He was going to be too weak to think after a while. “What is he going to do to me if I comply?”

“ _He’ll feed you and fuck you_ .”  Erica’s voice trembled. “ _He’ll make you think you are the most important person in the world to him. He’ll make you think he’s changed for you. And then the full moon will come.”_

“What happens on the full moon?” Peter asked.  
  
“ _He will destroy you. He will take what makes you a wolf and he will destroy you.”_ Erica whimpered.  
  
“Is that what he did to you?” Peter dragged himself over to the bars to the other cell.

Erica nodded.  
  
Peter gripped the bars and hissed as the wolfsbane dug into his hands. In the darkness he couldn’t see her properly. “Has anyone made it past the full moon?”  
  
Erica shook her head. “ _They all die_ .”  
  
“I’m not going to die.” Peter panted. “I’m going to figure a way out of this.”

“ _There might be a way._ ” Erica sounded thoughtful.  
  
“I’m listening.” What else could he do.

“ _Make him want you_ .” Erica suggested. “ _Make him fall in love with you. That way he won’t want to ruin you. His whole thing is to break us. He hates werewolves. They killed his wife and daughter in front of his eyes, ripped them to shreds.”_

“How do I know how to do that?”  
  
“ _Know what he likes first. I can help you with that. He loves antiques.”_

Peter was a huge fan of history. He spent hours of time researching old artifacts and ancient times. He was planning on going to college for History. Once Erica started talking he realized he might just have a chance. If only he could stomach touching a man who had tortured and killed so many wolves.

It might be his only means of survival, and Hales? Hales survived. Erica had told him many things about Christopher Argent. Once he wrapped his brain around his situation he knew he had to figure a way out. Beaten unconscious regularly and in incredible pain and unable to heal didn’t help. She detailed to him the things that would happen if he complied to Argent’s demands and got himself cleaned up. He didn’t know how many days he had left until the full moon and what she described. He’d slowly die.  
  
Chris came to get him again but this time he looked different. He also smelled different. He’d been drinking and he was angry about something and looked tired and drawn. Every time he’d come down before he’d been emotionless and completely indifferent. This time he gave Peter a fed up expression and pretty much tossed him into the bathroom.  
“Unlock your irons, get in the tub, and bathe.” Chris snapped and flexed his hand, getting ready to beat Peter unconscious.  
  
Peter’s shoulder hit a cabinet and he winced.  He kept a close eye on Chris as he unlocked his irons. It was nice to get out of the wolfsbane. He could barely stand now but he did. He lifted his chin proudly but unlike the other times he didn’t attack Chris. He tossed the chains and key on the floor and stood there, dirty, ripped clothing clinging to him.  
  
Chris looked up at him and gave a thin smile. “No fight in you today, cub?”  
  
“My name is Peter.” Peter told his captor arrogantly.  
  
“I stand corrected.” Chris chuckled, he folded his arms and met the wolf’s intense look. He normally didn’t care to know anything about the creatures he captured. He just stared back and waited, impassively.  
  
Peter exhaled and with dirt caked fingers started to unbutton his shirt then just gave a soft grunt and tore it off. He was going to get a reaction if it was the last thing he did. In school, everyone wanted him and he knew he was good-looking. He also had a body and worked hard on it. He wasn’t shy. He had to struggle with the pants, his legs hurt and his feet were killing him.  
  
Chris didn’t seem at all moved and only showed mild interest.  
  
Peter turned and looked at the tub. The bathroom itself was luxurious and the tub was filled with warm water. He longed to get in it and soak himself. He hated it when his hair was dirty but he also knew the man sitting there was a sadistic fuck. He wouldn’t be surprised if the water was laced with wolfsbane. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he tested it and didn’t get any burns.  
  
From his vantage point, Chris could see everything that happened in the bathtub. Peter grimaced and lowered himself into the warm water. It immediately became muddy with blood and dirt. Tears sprang to his eyes from the pain in his feet.  
  
Chris rolled up his sleeves, took a detached shower head and soaked his hair with it. The muddied bathwater was drained and refilled three times. He washed Peter’s hair, lightly massaged his head and rubbed soap all over his body. The bathwater was then drained and filled a fourth time and Peter couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure. Especially since Chris’ hands were on his balls. The man had touched him everywhere, rubbed soap in and made his whole body shudder. “You like this don’t you?” Chris asked him.  
  
What teenage boy would object to his balls being fondled? Peter lay somewhat limp in the bath. It was so nice to be clean again. He could almost forget the man holding his balls was a psychopathic murderer.  
  
“I asked you a question, cub.” Chris’ voice was low and dangerous in his ear.  
  
“Y-yes,” answered Peter breathlessly.  
  
“You’re clean now.” Chris told him. “Come out of the bath and dry yourself off.”  
  
Peter hated being suddenly let go and ordered about but he knew what would happen if he didn’t. Erica had told him, it would be one of two things.    
  
“ _The first time will be rough or quick, it will all depend on your behavior. Don’t try and run, he’ll just burn your feet again and toss you back in the cell.” she had told him._ _  
_  
“Come here.” Chris sat back in the stool. “Stand still.”

Peter limped his way over and did as bidden, unable to stop the spark of defiance in his eyes.

Chris reached over and carefully rubbed shaving cream over his balls. “Stand very, very still.” He ordered. “If you move, you’ll be sorry.”  
  
He opened up a kit and Peter’s eyes snapped down to it.

“Don’t you have something less 15th century?” Peter hissed at it before he could stop himself.  
  
Chris’ eyebrows climbed. “You know what century this is from?”  
  
“I like reading about historical items.” Peter shrugged and tried his very best to sound natural and nonchalant, as if Chris wasn’t scaring him at all.  
  
“Huh,” Chris looked a tiny bit impressed. Nonetheless, he did take out the sharpened knife and proceeded to shave.  
  
It should not have felt like this. Peter’s brain was scattered and he was embarrassingly close to begging. Chris’ hand was too fucking close to his cock, but he didn’t touch it. The whole process lasted maybe ten minutes and after all the touching in the bath and this he was aroused in spite of everything.  
  
“You’ve been very good, cub.” Chris told him as he licked the roof of his mouth briefly in contemplation and put away the shaving kit.  
  
“My name is Peter, not cub.” Peter snapped without thinking.  
  
Chris let out a dry laugh and stood up. He reached over, grasped Peter by the hair and forced him down to his knees on the cold tiles. “I’d hate to have to muzzle you, _Peter._ You’ve got such pretty lips. ”

The way Chris emphasized his name sent shivers down Peter’s spine. Erica was right, he should have kept his stupid mouth shut.  The way Chris said his name sent shivers down Peter’s spine.

“I was going to wait, but not when you’re as responsive as you are.” Chris chuckled, “I can tell that you want me to. Bend over, put your head in your arms.”

Peter remained exactly where he was and simply glared at Chris.  He didn’t fight he just didn’t bend over.  
  
Chris let go of his hair and brought his face down to simply gaze directly into Peter’s eyes and invade his personal space. He cupped Peter’s jaw with his thumb and forefinger and forced his neck back.

Peter licked his lips, mouth slightly open.

“You’re hoping I’ll kiss you.” Chris scoffed, let his jaw go abruptly and then forced him to the floor, face down. “You’re a manipulative little shit, or at least you think you are. I’ll give you that. You’re just being passive because you think I’ll let my guard down.”

So much for making him fall in love, the man was a complete psycho.

Peter closed his eyes, he’d never done this before, it would be a first. How bad could it be? He glanced back at Chris, “well, get on with it. It’s cold in here.” He wished he didn’t feel so damned weak. He’d be fighting this otherwise.  
  
Chris laughed loudly at that comment. “You’re something else.”  He unzipped his pants and chuckled at Peter’s reaction to the size of his cock.  “I’m going to make something very clear, though.” He opened up a bottle of lube and slicked himself.  “I don’t give a fuck who you are.”  He pressed a finger into Peter’s hole.

Peter couldn’t help but whimper. It didn’t feel anything like what he thought it would. It _hurt_ , and he fought tears. Chris’ fingers were relentless, wiggling inside of him deeper and deeper. Jesus, fuck, he just wanted it over with. But then, then Chris found something. Jesus Christ, he massaged it! “What are you, Oh!"  Peter trembled and writhed.  
  
He wasn’t sure how long Chris stretched him. Truth of it was he didn’t care, he just wanted that massaging to continue.

“You like this?” Chris asked with a dry chuckle. “You want more?”  
  
Peter didn’t want to nod, that was too close to submitting. He gritted his teeth and refused to answer.  
  
“Your body tells me you do.”  Chris leaned down and nipped his shoulder.  
  
Peter felt heat pool in his groin and his cock wept.

“You should learn not to challenge me, Peter. This is what happens when you challenge me.” Chris removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.

“I noticed…” Peter rasped, as scathingly as he could. “You called me by my name.”  He did not gasp nor did he cry out. It fucking hurt but he would not be completely broken.  He knew the man fucking him didn’t feel a thing. He knew it was all part of his routine breakdown of his trophies. Listening to Chris’ heart beat it was steady and clinical. Like he was a surgeon performing a delicate task. There was no passion.  
  
And yet, Peter liked it. He couldn’t stop himself from making noises. He hated himself for it, but he liked it.  
  
Chris didn’t answer him but kept one hand on the back of Peter’s neck.  He did keep hitting that spot and pulled Peter to the brink. However, he didn’t finish. “Nice try, Peter." he laughed harshly as he abruptly pulled out and left the wolf whimpering on the floor, unfulfilled.

The hunter brought himself off and smeared the cum on Peter’s ass with a merciless chuckle.  “You can clean up and sleep here tonight. I’ll send some food up with my housekeeper.”  
  
Peter lay there on the floor unable to move. He squeezed his eyes shut until he could hear Chris walking down the hallway and couldn’t smell him anymore. His whole body trembled with fear and revulsion of what had just happened, and the undeniable truth that he’d actually liked it! What was wrong with him?  
  
There was a gentle knock at the bedroom door sometime later.  
  
Peter didn’t care he was still lying on the floor of the bathroom. Moving was not happening. He was exhausted physically and mentally. Part of him just wanted it over but another part of him wanted him to fight so he forced himself up. He’d clean up later. He noticed a robe and pulled it on, wincing. He limped to the door and opened it.  
  
It was a woman, wheeling a cart of food. She was…

One of the most beautiful women Peter had ever seen. Her hair was long and dark and her eyes hauntingly beautiful. Her skin was flawless. She was in her thirties and wore the uniform of a nurse. She had a silver necklace with her name written on it.

_Melissa_

Once the door was open Peter immediately tried to leave...only to be blocked by Mountain Ash.

Melissa did not immediately enter the room. She picked up a collar out of her pocket and handed it to Peter. “If you want food and medical attention, put that on.” The tired, vacant look she gave him suggested that she didn’t give two fucks if he was fed or not.  
  
He could smell the Wolfsbane on the collar. He could also smell the metallic bits on it and in it. “If you’re out of the cell. You wear this.”

Peter glared at the thing. It was leather with slave rings on it. He didn’t like the look at of it at all.

“I could take you back to the cell.”

Peter snatched the collar and put it on. He grimaced the moment the needles on the interior of the collar pierced his skin and wolfsbane seeped into him. Any supernatural healing was again prevented from kicking in.

“I have these. Do I need to demonstrate?” Melissa showed him her tasers.  
  
“Who are you?” Peter demanded.

“I’m Melissa McCall. Housekeeper, Nurse. That’s all you need to know. I work for Mr Argent.”

McCall..why did that name sound familiar? Peter wracked his brains and decided he’d have to figure it out later because whatever was on the tray smelled delicious and he was starving.

“Why are you helping him?” Peter stepped away from the door to let her enter.

“Sit down and let me look at your feet. You can eat after I look at you.”

“What’s going to happen to Erica?” Peter asked.

He sat gingerly in a chair by a small table so she could kneel down and check the damage. At the mention of that name Melissa looked as if she thought he was crazy and went back to work. She had a medical bag with her and treated his burns. She had absolutely no bedside manner, this woman. She was completely closed off like all the emotion had been ripped out of her. Abruptly the name McCall rang a bell. He remembered now. The McCalls had gone missing a few years back. Disappeared from their house. Talia had been called in by the Sheriff to try and find them. They had never been found and Beacon Hills had been on high alert ever since.

“What happened to you?” Peter asked her. “I’m sure that my family would…”  
  
Melissa looked up at him sharply. “What else hurts?” she finished dressing his feet. They actually felt a little better now. He pointed out his broken ribs among other things. “Your ribs aren’t important. Mr Argent is only concerned about your physical appearance.”

“Melissa, Please. You could help us. Erica and I.”  
  
“Things like you are the reason my son and his father are dead.”  Melissa stood up. “I can only tell you not to challenge him or break the rules. It’s comfortable here but he’ll be more than happy to keep you below.”

“Melissa, Mrs McCall. Please!” Peter gave her a heartfelt look. “My sister will be worried sick. We’re not all killers. There are children that are counting on me.”

Melissa sighed and retrieved her bag. She gazed at the wolf’s eyes and understood what Chris had warned her about. He was a pretty one, easy to drown in. But she also knew Chris would have his fun and kill him on the full moon as he had all the others. She wasn’t sure what to make about the mention of Erica. Erica had been dead a long time.

She headed out the door and stood there for a moment. The wolf looked so forlorn sitting there, utterly wretched. He was younger than some of them that had been brought in and in spite of everything she still cared. “Show me your eyes.”

They glowed gold. No blue.

“What’s your family name?” Melissa sharply asked.

“Hale.” Peter told her. “My name is Peter Hale.”  
  
“Don’t try anything, Peter Hale.” Melissa gave him the tiniest of smiles. A small sign that she meant to look into this.

The door was closed and he was left to eat.  It wasn’t a very encouraging conversation but her expression had changed and she smelled sympathetic as soon as he showed blue eyes. He was tired and just wanted to sleep but he was also hungry.  The food ended up being good, deliciously good and he crawled onto the comfy bed. He was afraid of falling asleep, afraid he’d wake in the cell again.  
  
*  
  
He was dreaming. He could hear his sister’s laugh as she played hide and seek. Beautiful Kate, such potential. Christopher chuckled and heard his mother call them in for barbeque.

“I found you first, Chris!” Kate taunted when she caught him daydreaming. “Who are you thinking about to look so dramatic?!? Is it Victoriaaaa.”  She called Chris’ crush’s name in a sing song voice. Victoria and her parents were visiting for the summer and Chris was thirteen and hormonal and she was beautiful and sophisticated and he was smitten.

Kate was seven and adorable. Chris loved her so much that he thought if anything happened to her his heart would stop. It was July fourth weekend. Everyone was home with their families in the neighborhood. His mother beamed at him when he wandered into the backyard with Katie skipping behind him.  
  
“Such a handsome pair, my darlings! Are you hungry?”  
  
Chris didn’t want to finish the dream. He knew what was going to happen, just like all of his dreams. They all ended in blood and death. He was a boy again, heading into the house to wash his face at his mother’s insistence. He’d never known that those were the last words she’d ever say to them.

That was not his first encounter with a werewolf. He had already been brought into the fold but that was the first time he’d see how they could rip apart someone’s life. When he came out, his entire family was gone, revenge for something his mother had done, he suspected. The wolf had been about to kill him too but he had a gun with wolfsbane bullets. He shot it dead and when Victoria and her parents showed up they found him with a saw, cutting it in half.

Victoria and her parents were hunters too. They took him in, a shell-shocked thirteen year old who grew up too quickly. He spent his youth becoming a weapon, seeking and learning everything he could about the wolf who was responsible for the murder of his family. He married Victoria because she was the only one who understood him. The only one who knew why his heart was locked away.

They eventually had a child, even though Chris had never wanted children. Victoria discovered what he’d been doing one year. Torturing wolves for information and she made him swear never again to kill a wolf without blue eyes. They had a code. Allison, his daughter Allison was beautiful and one day he looked at her and everything clicked away. The bloodlust and revenge he desired. They settled down, Chris found other work. He loved antiquities, especially weapons and he threw himself into life for a while. He was getting better. Victoria was especially hopeful.

He smiled sometimes and the nightmares stopped.

It didn’t last. The life of a hunter never goes smooth. He lost them as well.  Victoria and Allison were taken from him in much the same manner, but right before his eyes. He’d been powerless to stop it and the wolves left him there, drowning in blood.  The dream always ends with him crying out Victoria’s name as she died in his arms.

Her parents had been very wealthy. He used that to have this stronghold. One day, he’d find the werewolf pack that had sent betas to decimate his family for each time had been premeditated and calculating. They’d waited until the family was vulnerable.

There was one name that often came up when during his discussions with his captives. The name of one Alpha.

Deucalion, the Demon Wolf.

Chris opened his eyes, the smell of their blood lingering in the back of his mind. It had been six years since he lost everything that mattered to him. In the meantime, he had a toy to play with and squeeze information out of.  He was pretty, intelligent and full of fire. He wasn’t like the others. He would be fun to break and Chris would feel alive for a little while.

Otherwise, he was dead inside.

Except for the rare times that Melissa McCall would try and comfort him. They’d both been through similar situations but she had more compassion than he. It never worked and she’d stopped trying. He sometimes thought about telling her to go back to her life. As long as she stayed with him, she’d always be damaged.

He never did.

Chris  took a shower and collected his thoughts. Peter had had some time to sleep and eat. But now he was ready to ratchet things up a notch.

Why was he thinking of it as a name? It was a werewolf.

It didn’t deserve a name.

He stalked over to his table of toys and looked over them.

There was a knock on his bedroom door and Melissa opened it.  
  
“What is it?” Chris asked as he loaded his gun with specially designed wolfsbane bullets, unmoved.

“His eyes are gold, Chris.” Melissa’ words were dull as usual, void of emotion. “Do you know that he’s a Hale?”

Chris paused what he was doing. Well wasn’t _that_ interesting.

“If you’re not going to let  him go, you should consider letting him live.” Melissa told him.

Chris gave her a scathing look. “If you don’t have the stomach for this anymore, Melissa. You know I can take you home.”

“There’s nothing back there for me.” Melissa shook her head. “Don’t kill this boy, Chris. There’s something about him. He knew about Erica.”

Chris froze. “How?”  
  
“Someone with that kind of ability could be really, really useful.”  
  
Chris put the gun on the table, “I’m listening.”

She was the only person who ever held his attention, when she deigned to talk at all. She was beautiful and broken, just like him. But she was also brilliant. She was a nurse. If he had any heart left at all, he could easily have loved her but he was ice cold and she knew it.  Melissa had a certain intuition about things it was part of the reason he kept her around.  This one was different, he knew she was right.  
  
*

Peter woke up again. It had taken a while to get the whole meal down while wearing the collar. It made it nearly impossible to sleep and he’d thrown up at least twice.  Eventually he reached up to rip it off when he heard a voice in his head.

“Down here…” Erica called to him. “The vent.”  
  
Peter crouched down. “How did you get in there?”  It looked incredibly small and somewhat ornate.

“You can’t fight him, Peter.” Erica reached out to clutch the iron bars of grate that sealed the vent. It would be the first time he saw her hands in the light and finally understood the nature of the danger he was in. The tips of each of her fingers were horribly scarred, nails long since removed. Around her wrists was a similar contraption to his collar. A leather band with needles under it, there to fill her with Wolfsbane. Her hands were scarred too, skin barely stretching over bone. Thin enough that he could see every vein. “I know you want to, but I haven’t got much time left. I need you to get us out of this.” She still didn’t show her face, that was shrouded in shadows.

Peter crouched down and linked their fingers together through the bars. “I’ll get us out.” He promised her.  “I swear I will. What does he want?”  
  
“He won’t ask yet, but he will. His endgame is The Demon Wolf. Everything you know about him and he’ll extract it.” Erica shuddered at his touch. She was so very cold, ice cold. “He’ll extract it by any means possible.”  
  
“Deucalion?” Peter sighed at the mention of the wolf his pack recently fought and actually responsible for the reason they had been checking beyond their borders the night he was captured. He had been told to stay home but when had he ever done what he was told?  
  
Now he was  here.  
  
“Yes, He’ll start asking. It’s only a matter of time.” Erica nodded. She cocked her head. “Someone’s coming, get into bed. Strip.”

“But I don’t want him to…” Peter could smell who was coming, he was close enough that the wolfsbane didn’t interfere.

“Do it.”  Erica scuttled away from the iron bars and let go over his hand.

“Wait, don’t leave me alone with--”  
  
The door unlocked.  
  
It was too late, she was gone and he was on his own.  
  
Peter quickly got to his feet. He wasn’t wearing much anyway, just a robe he’d found and a pair of sweatpants from the closet. He partially took her advice anyway and stripped. He did not, however, get into bed. He stood right where he was, held his chin high and waited to defiantly face down his captor.

Chris unlocked the door, freshly loaded weapon in hand. Peter frowned at it. A deadly looking crossbow. He gave an amused laugh and raked his eyes over the Wolf’s exposed flesh. “I’ve been told I should spare you.” He prowled over to a chair and sat down. He held a crossbow trained at Peter and the wolf somehow knew it was Chris’ weapon.  He was good with it and it was rather impressive. Peter knew the exact make and model.  “You seem to have made an impression on my housekeeper.”

“Is that a Carbon?” Peter completely changed the subject and focused on the weapon instead.  He had always been comfortable in his naked skin so being this way didn’t diminish any natural curiosity.

“You know weapons?” Chris raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected, most boys Peter’s age didn’t know a crossbow from a compound bow never mind the brand.  
  
“I know a lot of things,” responded Peter with a smirk. “Your house is full of antiques," he gave Chris a pointed look.  “And yet, here I am.”

“Think I’m old do you?” Chris grinned, extremely amused in spite of himself.  
  
Peter slunk forward but only a couple of steps. He was well aware of the weapon that Chris most certainly would use if he did anything. If Erica was right his only means of survival was going to be holding the man’s interest. His body screamed at him with every move he made. The wolfsbane was still wreaking havoc with his stomach but he was who he was and he was not going to lick anyone’s boots.  “Yes,” he answered. “Probably old enough to be my father but at least you don’t need viagra.”  
  
Chris’ lips curled.  
  
That didn’t stop Peter though.  “Did you know that Viagra can cause some serious side effects? It could make you lose your sight. Maybe I’m wrong and you do have to use it. Pity because if you couldn’t see you wouldn’t be able to appreciate how good I look.”  
  
Chris’ response was to, quite calmly, fire the crossbow.  
  
It sliced nearly all the way through Peter’s thigh, not quite as messy as a bullet but still painful. The bolt cut so deep, Peter felt it might have hit bone.

Peter couldn’t help the cry of pain and shock that escaped his lips. “But I didn’t try anything!” Peter whined as he shot him an accusing glare. The wolf braced himself up on the bedpost as he tried to stay upright.  
  
“What am I going to do with you?” Chris put down the crossbow bolt and took out a taser in case Peter decided to get reckless.

Blood trickled down Peter’s leg and made a mess on the carpet.

“You won’t submit and you try to fake submit but your mouth speaks an entirely different story. Melissa wants to keep you up here but I’d rather just toss you back downstairs and wait for the full moon. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Chris looked him up and down.  
  
Peter fought through the pain in his leg. “I’ve got a reason. I can track the Demon Wolf. I know his scent, all you need is a general location.”    
  
Chris’ eyes widened. He pulled out his taser and came up very close to Peter. His other hand wrapped around his throat.  “How do you know about Deucalion? Who have you been talking to?” He threw Peter down on the floor by his neck.  
  
Peter propped up on his arms and glared up at him. “My pack was hunting him. If you let me take Erica out of here with me when we find Deucalion. I’ll help you.”  
  
Chris scowled. So as Melissa said, he was talking to Erica. He just didn’t know what he was talking to. “You’ll have to prove to me I can trust you and that you’re telling the truth.”

“What do I have to do?” Peter fought the urge to try and lunge at Chris in spite of the odds stacked against him in his current condition.  
  
Chris gestured at his boot. “Submit.”

“And you’ll let me leave and take Erica with me once you have Deucalion?”

Chris smiled without mirth. It wasn’t a lie. He’d let Peter take what was left of her body, then hunt him and kill him when he was done with him. “Yes.” He knew very well Wolves could tell lies and that wasn’t a lie.

Peter hesitated as it went against every fiber of his being. The pain from the crossbow bolt in his leg made him shudder. He did not submit. He was a Hale, brother of the Alpha. But then he remembered Erica and her hands. What this man did to her he would do to him in a heartbeat. She was right, Chris Argent was not a man to cross. He had one job.

_Survive._

Peter didn’t want to. Fuck. He really didn’t want to. The hackles on the back of his neck rose as Chris watched him. Fucking bastard. He had no other option, though. If he attacked, Chris would put him down, without a second thought.  
  
Chris also seemed to get off on his discomfort. The man looked mildly amused as Peter was struggling with his own self-importance.

Peter took a deep breath and got down on his knees. He couldn’t stop his claws from coming out and trying to force him in place and he had to force the wolf down. He locked his gaze with Chris the entire time he forced himself to walk on his hands and knees. Blood trailed from his wound and created a mess on the pocket. It took all that he had to harness his natural instincts and push them down under this foreign feeling of ignominy. If he did not succeed his claws would take on a mind of their own and ruin any chance he had of freedom.

He knew what Chris wanted him to do. He knew because Chris ordered him to do it so many times down in the cell. His boots weren’t exactly clean and Peter’s indignant wrinkle of his nose was every indication this was beneath him.  
  
Chris’ hand kept on the taser.  
  
The tension in the room was strong as Peter lowered his gaze. He fought revulsion, he fought pride and struggled with his own brain screaming at him.  
  
This was his path to escaping this hell-hole.  
  
Peter sighed, hoped Talia would forgive him, and let his tongue drag over Chris’ boot. He lapped a few times and felt Chris’ hand rest heavily in his hair. His fingers slid through Peter’s curls and both kept him where he was, at Chris’ feet and wanting more.  
  
“You look good down there, Peter.” Chris told him mercilessly. “Pretty,” he smiled without mirth and studied the arrow in Peter’s leg. “Now let’s go over the rules, shall we?” He kept pressure on the back of Peter’s head, and forced him to stay down close enough that he could smell his own saliva on Chris’ boot.

“One: You will always lick my boots when you first see me, every time. You will kneel and you will stay kneeled until I say you can get up.  Two: You will eat only from my hand. Three: You will bare your throat to me. Four: You will attack what I tell you to attack.  Five: You will come to me and crouch at my side when I tell you to come to me. And finally.”

Chris leaned down and brushed Peter’s curls away from his ear. “You will always tell me the truth and do what I tell you to do.”

Peter shivered, appalled at his body for reacting even in his weakened state.   _Sit. Attack. Come. Wait to be fed. Tell the truth. Do what you’re told._  
  
“Do you accept these conditions?” Chris asked him as his fingers played with the wolf’s ear.

Peter nodded.  
  
Chris pushed him down to his boot and gripped his ear tightly.  “Say it.”  
  
“I accept your conditions.” Peter spat. 

“Let’s get that arrow out of your leg now, shall we?” Chris rose and gestured towards the chair. “Sit, just not all the way. I’ll pull it out. But first, you know what to do.”

Peter sat down, gripped the edge of the chair and inwardly fumed. He knew it showed in his eyes too but he couldn’t help it.

Chris tsked, “That looks like it hurts.” He lifted his eyes with an amused smile and pressed down against the wound.  
  
“You know it does.” Peter growled between his teeth and bit back a yell of pain.

“Brace yourself.” Chris told him and gripped the bloody arrow. He gave it a good tug and Peter howled in pain. The arrowhead was lodged in bone and he would have to maneuver it. “Peter.” Chris snapped his fingers in front of the wolf’s eyes. “Look at me. Focus on me.”  
  
Peter growled low.

“Inhale my scent.” Chris directed him.  
  
Reluctantly, Peter agreed. Chris’ scent he associated with fear and pain but this was different. Chris was relieving him of pain now. The human inside knew how wrong it was but the wolf didn’t know much different. The wolf was being lulled by the way the man was gently speaking.    
  
A few more tugs and more pain wracked through him. Peter felt Chris’ hand on his other thigh. Soothing him, pressing his legs apart. “One more time, it’s almost out.” He rubbed with his thumb against the inside of Peter’s other thigh while he maneuvered the arrow. Peter shuddered in pain. The hunter was about to pull away his hand from the other thigh but Peter clutched his bicep. They looked at each other for a long moment. Chris looked down and saw the his erection.  
  
Peter could still get his claws out but the wolfsbane sapped his strength. He would not be able to fully shift unless the collar was off. Yet claws and teeth could do a lot of damage if he wanted. It was also slowing down the healing process.  
  
Chris kept stroking with his thumb. One final jerk and the arrow was free of his flesh. Blood rushed from the wound and chris grabbed a towel to contain it and keep pressure. He pressed down on the wound and moved his other hand to Peter’s dick.

Peter didn’t let go of his bicep. The wolf’s other hand was digging claws into the chair in an impressive display of control. Peter’s whine sent a stab of desire through Chris. This had been exactly the sound he’d wanted to hear.

Chris kept stroking him, pulling on his cock and applying pressure to the wound on his leg. It was a dizzying combination of pleasure and pain and the scent all wrapping up into one all consuming need.  
  
He wanted the man to do things to him. More things than just palming his cock. The realization shocked him as much as the smells were confusing and tantalizing the wolf inside.  
  
“You know what you have to do, Peter.” Chris told him with another of his infuriating looks. “If you want that?”  
  
How could the bastard know?  Maybe this is exactly what he did to everyone else. Peter was just one in a long line of seductions and deaths. No he wasn’t. He was fucking different. He was Peter Hale and he would have something here, he wouldn't let Chris have everything.  He licked his lips. He would show him!  
  
So Peter titled his neck to the side and exposed his throat to the hunter but his nails still dug into the chair.  
  
Chris looked at him with satisfaction. “That’s exactly how you should look, such a pretty monster you are, barely in control. Only human now because I’ve forced you to be. You’re probably thinking I don’t know how to own a wolf.” He resumed stroking Peter’s dick.  
  
The leg was no longer bleeding but it still hurt like hell. “Get … on … with it.” Peter grunted, eyes flashing.  
  
Chris lifted his free hand, the one that was stained with Peter’s blood and sucked some of it off. His blood was now mixed with the Hunter’s saliva and he stroked the side of Peter’s neck. Peter swallowed and groaned.

His cock was already weeping when Peter slowly realized he may have underestimated his situation.  
  
Especially when Chris’ lips seized his throat and he bit down.  
  
_Hard._ _  
_ _  
_ The action caused his cock to jerk and spill in Chris’ palm, a howl to escape his lips and his body to writhe under the hunter.  
  
Fuck…  
  
Fuck …. fuck …  fuck….

This couldn’t be happening. His claws retracted and he reached up to grip Chris’ shoulders. He whimpered as Chris soothed him through his orgasm and licked at his abused throat. “You’ve never been claimed, am I right?”  
  
Peter shuddered. It didn’t mean anything. Not now. Not like this. He shook his head.

“Never? I find that hard to believe, pretty young thing like you. They must be fighting over you then.” Chris nipped his jaw and placed delicate little kisses and licks along it.  
  
“I have some suitors.” Peter shrugged.  
  
“No one special?”  
  
Peter shook his head. They were all beneath him, and they had no ability to defeat him. Why should he take a wolf who couldn't stand their own against him?

“So you came to me a virgin?”  
  
Peter flushed slightly. “No.” He liked those kisses, they were nice.  He especially liked it when Chris’ hands played along his stomach and smeared his own seed into his skin.  
  
“Pity. No one looking for you?”  
  
“My sister the…” Peter said without thinking.  
  
“Your sister? Something special about her?” Chris teased his earlobe with his tongue and worked his way to Peter’s lips. He nudged them open.  
  
He liked the feel of Chris’ tongue, it was warm and skilled. And his hands, they were exploring him, it wasn’t like before. It wasn’t hard and fast and painful. One of Chris’ thumbs now played with a nipple...and god. It wasn’t fair that he was the only one naked...and that was a such a sensitive area.

He gasped loudly and Chris took advantage of it. The hunter’s tongue and lips seized his mouth and invaded him mercilessly. He was hardly even aware that there was the cold steel of a knife against his throat. A warning. He wanted badly to touch Chris but the knife stopped him and all he really wanted to think about was how much he liked kissing this man.  
  
There was a hunger in it, a molten fire burning. It shackled each of his limbs and ravaged his defenses. He could sense that it was affecting the hunter as well and that was some small measure of win on his part. He moaned as Chris tweaked his nipple and pinched them hard.  Both hands fell on the couch arm and he braced himself. He was unable to draw his claws out, unable to defend himself against the onslaught of need that wracked his body. It was a primal want for more.  
  
Chris released his lips with a sensual lick, “What about your sister, Peter?” He pulled his thumb up from Peter’s nipple and rubbed his bottom lip.  
  
“My sister’s the Hale Alpha.”  Peter whispered.  It felt like when he answered it was a dream. He wasn’t really saying anything, he was just feeling.  
  
“Good boy,” Chris chuckled softly. “You’ve been such a good boy today, my obedient puppy. Later perhaps I'll let you eat, would you like that?”  
  
Peter nodded, numbly aware he was coming down from that special place the kiss had sent him to.  
  
“And how do you eat now, Peter?”  
  
“From your hand.” Peter brought Chris’ hand to his lips and nuzzled it.  
  
Chris smiled. “Well, it seems you can be brought to heel after all.”  He climbed off the chair much to Peter’s disappointment and tugged his hand away.  “Get cleaned up, take a bath. Melissa will be in later to clean the mess you made on the floor. She won’t be pleased, so I’d like you to do whatever she asks. She will bring you to see me for dinner and provide you with any extra instructions.”  
  
“Yes, Christopher.” Peter lowered his gaze to his hands, which trembled.

What had just happened? It wasn’t until ten minutes later when Peter stopped touching himself everywhere Chris had that he realized what he had done. Oh no! No no no! He'd just given away the most important information about himself.

Talia wasn’t going to forgive him that.

*  
  
Take a bath. That sounded like a great idea.

Of course that would mean Peter would have to get up off the chair. He drew a long shuddering breath. He’d never felt so unbalanced in his entire life. It was as if Chris had reached inside him and pulled every nerve apart. What exactly had he let happen? The man was his captor, tormentor. There should absolutely not be any feelings. Peter reached up to rub his throat where Chris had bit him and marked him. No one else had even come close to doing that though a lot had made the attempt at wooing him.

Peter stood up finally and grunted, at least his feet felt a bit better now. Whatever salve Melissa had used on him earlier was doing wonders. Now if only he could do something about the damn collar. Every time he tried to remove it, it shocked him.

He headed into the bathroom and grimaced as he remembered the act from the day before. He’d failed to impress Argent and basically been taken ruthlessly on the floor. Peter shuddered, he didn’t want to feel that helpless ever again. He’d given Argent the illusion of control earlier. That was the only way he could think about it and still have any self respect. He just needed to get his strength back and his mind back in the game. Argent was a ruthless man and Peter knew that if he didn’t prove he was useful he was sure he would face the same fate as Erica, or worse.

He and Talia had already lost their parents and his sister needed him alive.

Peter limped to the the bathtub and ran the water. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw there were various scented oils and bubble-bath products...and glorious hair products to choose from. But naturally he checked every single one out. He looked down at the ugly wound that the bolt at left. The bleeding had stopped but it hadn’t healed over. Neither had any of the marks Chris had made on his throat. Given the state of his feet he knew that his healing powers were still there, just dampened.  
  
Peter sighed and slipped into the warm water. God that felt good. He dunked his head under and pulled back up again. The headache he had earlier was all but gone. He massaged soap into his hair and let the water soothe his wounds. Now that he knew what it was Chris wanted he knew how to manipulate the situation and work his way free. He had a feeling no one had ever managed to turn the tables on the man but Erica was right.

The only way he would ever get out of this alive and in one piece was to play along, bide his time and fake whatever he had to fake. He had survived growing up in the shadow of his his sister. He wasn’t sure what day it was or how many were left until the full moon. Erica had told him that was when Chris would kill him. He tugged a bit at the collar and winced at the needles in his neck. He was fucked if he couldn’t prove himself useful.

He would.

Several minutes of warmth later he heard the clicking of heels coming in his direction. It was a few hallways down still. They paused outside his door and entered. He smelled Melissa and chose to ignore her while she straightened up the room and worked on cleaning the blood on the floor. It felt much better where he was and he didn’t feel like chatting.

Eventually she came to stand at the bathroom door and he knew she was looking in his direction. He frowned, smelling something else. “Mr Argent would like you to join him at dinner tonight.” Melissa’s voice was casual.

And yet, that smell. Peter looked over at her, and suddenly understood what else she did for Christopher Argent. “You’re chained to him too.”

Melissa lifted her eyebrows. “I’m here by choice.”  The slight smirk she gave him caused his hackles to rise. She’d done that completely on purpose, left Chris’ scent on her.

He wanted to growl in frustration.

Melissa was wearing an old and yet still flattering dress and a set of old pearls. She was clearly not interested in being glamorous but that didn’t matter. She didn’t need clothes to be beautiful. “I brought you an outfit. Get out of the bath.” She ignored his glare and walked back into the bedroom.

Peter took his damn time and wandered out dry and completely nude. The whole nonchalant effect was slightly lost since he had to limp his way over.

Melissa gave him a strange look.  “Sit down so I can wrap your feet. You’re going to need something so you may as well let me.”

“What do you mean?” Peter did as directed.

“You told him you could hunt Deucalion because you knew his smell.” Melissa inspected the burns. “Healing nicely.” she approved. “Which just means if you fuck up he’ll do it again.”  
  
Peter shuddered at the memory. “I can hunt him and I do know his smell.”  
  
"He’ll test you tonight.” Melissa took out some gauze to cushion his feet and some bandages from her bag. “Do NOT try and escape. He’s planned for every contingency.”

“Why are you telling me this?”  
  
“I’m trying to save your life.” Melissa stood after she finished bandaging his feet. She nodded over to the bed. “Get dressed.”  
  
“Why do you care?” Peter looked at the bed half expecting to see some sort of outlandish leather contraption. He was almost disappointed when it was just a totally normal dinner jacket, v-neck and pants which he got into without a great deal of effort. He was clean and dressed. That was something.  
  
“I have to replace the needles,” Melissa told him flatly when he was done. “and give you a stronger dose.”

Peter tensed.

“Would you rather he do it?”  Melissa asked him.  
  
“It hurts,” Peter whined.

“That’s the point.”  She checked it out briefly. “Good. It's still intact. Now, you have a decision to make, Peter.” Melissa put the device down and looked at him seriously. “I need to disable it to do what I need to do and I know you have some of your strength back. Your feet are healing.”

Peter gave her a smug look.

“So,” Melissa said as she looked up at him. “I can help you, but only if you let me. I do have a taser and I know your speed and coordination is still too close to zero for it to be a wise idea to try and kill me.”

“How can you help me when you’re his prisoner too?” asked Peter somewhat obnoxiously. Nonetheless he sighed and knew she was right.  He needed her on his side and she was an opportunity he could not ignore.

“I’m not,” Melisa shrugged. “Well? Will you trust me?”

Peter grimaced and nodded. He tilted back his head and let her work. She set his neck free briefly to put some ointment on and he winced when she replaced a couple of the needles and fit the collar back on.

“Alright, this is going to hurt.” She pressed it and the needles flicked out into his neck. That alone made him twitch but when the wolfsbane shot into him he cried out. There was something else in the dosage. Something far more insidious.

Peter fell on the floor, writhed and screamed in pain while she watched with a curled lip. His veins all went dark for a moment while the serum rushed through his system.  “Wh...what did you give me?” whined Peter.

Melissa just smirked.

He’d underestimated her. She almost seemed to enjoy watching him twitch in pain. Whatever they were giving him through the collar had just enough wolfsbane in him to matter but not enough to kill him. Everything they did was just enough to hurt him. They knew the exact doses to give him. They knew what to mix in. They knew what the effects would be. Every action was calculated and carefully drawn out. Melissa’s actions now were all part of it.

His body felt strange as he lay there and fought tears of pain. He’d been in pain before but this was different. This coursed through him and hit every nerve ending. He roared and tried to lunge at her. That only resulted in a taser to the back as she easily dodged out of the way of his sluggish movement.

While he whimpered and clawed at the floor, Melissa simply admired the display.  A few minutes later she crouched down with her taser,reached out to grip his hair and forced him to look at her.  “Now you can keep up with the theatrics, or you can get up. Unless of course you want me to tell Chris you are refusing his invitation to dinner?”

Peter bared his teeth at her and shook his head. Lacking his usual grace he staggered to his feet. “Let’s get this over with.” He twitched and grimaced as the serum settled inside him. Just enough to prickle at every nerve ending but not enough to kill him. Whatever it was made him want to shift, run and claw at his skin. It also made him extremely hypersensitive. As he walked he could even feel the fabric of his shirt as it rubbed against his nipples. That alone shouldn’t have made them hard against the cream colored, tight-fitting v-neck.

But it did.

  
**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a very difficult chapter to write.   
> To make a long story short: Peter is on a lot of drugs mixed with Wolfsbane.   
> Please let me know what you think.

Peter was glad she’d taken care of his feet. It was a long walk from his bedroom to the dining room and he wasn’t entirely recovered. He stopped just as she got to the door. Melissa turned to look at Peter curiously.    
“What?” She asked him.

“He’s not alone in there.” Peter pointed out. 

“No he is not.” Melissa confirmed.

“I don’t want to go in there.” Peter shook his head. 

Melissa pulled out her taser. “You don’t have a choice. Either you go in or I take you back downstairs.”

Peter gritted his teeth and snarled at her. With a sigh he pushed open the doors to the dining room. It was an elaborate affair. There were five other people in there besides Chris. They were dressed nicely and dinner was laid out as quite the feast. His stomach rumbled at the site of it. He was introduced as Chris’ guest but well aware that every single one of the men there of varying ages knew he was a werewolf. 

He gazed at the walls to take his mind off of it. Melissa left him to stand there and went from the dining room to the kitchen. She spoke briefly to Chris but in a language Peter didn’t know. Romanian? 

The art on the walls and the weapons on display was truly amazing. It was quite the collection and Peter knew his history. He’d been studying history and art for since he was twelve. He stood where he was until Chris told him where to sit. On his right side. He didn’t have a plate and wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. 

He sat down as instructed while Chris talked to the other guests. He was speaking in Romanian. Chris picked up a piece of delishious looking potato in his hand and held it out to Peter. All the while he kept up the discussion with the others. 

Peter glared at it and forced back his pride. He had sworn to Chris’ conditions and now he was going to be forced to comply. He lowered his head down and licked the piece off of Chris’ palm without a fuss. It earned him a smile and every couple of bites Chris took of his meal he would pass something to Peter. It was good to eat real food again even if he had to take it from the hand of someone else. 

He patiently let Chris feed him and studied the people in the room. They were foreigners, that much was clear and they were angry about something. They didn’t give two shits about him, not yet, anyway. He had a feeling they didn’t know what he was.  Melissa kept bringing in dishes. Eventually he was given his own glass of wine and permitted to drink. He hated it but it was better than lying in his own filth. He tilted his head slightly too look at Chris. He was still hungry but the man was engaged in talking rather forcefully at the group. For a long moment he thought about just reaching over and snagging something from the man’s plate. 

He did not.   
He clenched his fists under the table. He hated feeling powerless, it made him weak and he was anything but that. Somehow he’d get away from this monster of a man. He and Erica would run and he’d make sure to leave as much blood in his wake as he could.

He watched Chris lean back in his chair and glare at the female leader of the group. It was obvious she was in charge. She was the one doing all the talking a dark haired beauty with haunted eyes. Normally, he would already be flirting with her. Right now he was more interested in flirting the rest of the steak off of Chris’ plate. Instead, he sipped wine because he was allowed to, and lowered his eyes in fake demureness. After a few minutes went by he noticed Chris looking at him. The others were still talking amongst themselves. 

He raised his eyes and Chris gave him an approving nod. The hunter then picked up his plate and set it in front of him. He proceeded to fill it but Peter wasn’t handed any utensils. “Eat,” Chris nodded.

Peter stared at him, what did he expect him to do? Eat with his fingers? He grimaced at the indignity of that. 

  
“If you don’t want it-” Chris began and reached for the plate.    


Peter growled at him and ignored the looks they were suddenly getting from the other side of the table. He bared his teeth at the other hunters and lowered his head. He knew what 

Chris wanted him to do. He was just lucky the plate wasn’t put on the floor. 

He didn’t like the attitude that was being shown by the other hunters. They should respect him. If Peter was going to have to eat without his hands he’d sure as hell make it look good. He had a very talented tongue and sharp fangs, food wasn’t that hard to manage. He adopted a menacing look as he chomped into the first piece of meat and broke it in half with his fangs. With a furious twist of his head it came free and he chewed while Chris watched him out of the corner of his eye.   
  
“He’s a werewolf.” The hunter woman declared disapprovingly.   
  
Peter grinned widely. Bits of rare, red meat stuck to his fangs.  
  
“He’s under my control.” Chris noted smugly.

“They are never under anyone’s control.” The woman lifted her head. “I’m surprised at you, Argent. Your father would never have condoned this.”  
  
“I’m not my father.” Chris’ voice lowered into subtle tone that Peter knew well by now. He was angry. “I told you why you are here and you tell me that you will not part with the knife. If you came all this way to just tell me no, why did you come, Noelle?”   
  
Peter lapped at the gravy on the plate and pulled more meat into his mouth. Under the table he felt Chris reach over and begin to stroke the top of his thigh subtly.

“You know why we came, Christopher.” The woman spoke regally. “There’s a code and you have broken it.”

“I wanted to see if the rumors were true, if you have fallen as far as you have.” She looked down her nose at him, “regretfully, it seems it is all true.”   


Peter didn’t like her tone. It would be easy to rip into her throat for that affront. He only stayed where he was because Chris’ hand kept moving in small circles down the inside of his thigh. He opened his legs slightly. It felt good, soothing. He lifted some more food into his mouth with his tongue and relished the look of disgust from the lady. She had a strange smell to her, there was something about her blood. Something he knew could prove useful.   
  
“I fail to see how you are going to do anything about it.” Chris said evenly. “You’re in my home, after all.”

“You really have fallen, Christopher.” Noelle rose. “The Argents used to be a name that ranked high in our world and now you have destroyed it.”

Chris moved his hand to rest on Peter’s cock and left it there for a moment while he watched Noelle. “I have destroyed nothing,” Chris told her coldly. “Yet.”

Peter licked at his lips and gazed at Chris. He washed down the meat with some wine and exhaled roughly. 

“We will be the judge of that.” The woman said with a distasteful cluck of her tongue. “Take him.” She ordered her men. 

That was a mistake to do to a man in his own house. Melissa came right out of the kitchen holding an assault rifle. “I don’t think so,” she said calmly. 

Peter grew claws without even realizing it.    
“Maybe I should let him tear you apart.” Chris got to his feet. “Would you like that, Peter?” He had removed his hand and lifted it to scratch Peter behind the ear. 

An unholy grin spread across the wolf’s lips. He would like that. The fact that he’d never killed anyone before didn’t even register. The fact that he wanted to kill now, did. Whether for   
  
Chris or himself he didn’t know. The urge to rend their flesh with his teeth was nearly all-consuming. It wasn’t Chris or Melissa that drew his wolf’s rage but the interlopers. The hunters who wanted to hurt them.  
  
A small part of him knew that he should be on their side but Melissa had said this was a test. Confused, Peter didn’t know what to do so he opted to let the wolf decide. It was easier, more instinctual and made sense.

Nothing else did.  
  
“All I’d have to do is take his collar off.” Chris rested his hand now on Peter’s neck. He stroked the sensitive, irritated skin there and Peter leaned into him.  
  
The woman looked like someone one did not want to piss off and yet she knew when she was trapped. She lifted a hand to stop her people. “We’ll leave now, but make no mistake, Argent. We’ll be back.”

Chris trailed his fingers down from Peter’s neck to rest briefly on his ass. Once they got out of the dining room; Chris, Melissa and Peter followed them through the hallway and down to the front doors. Peter had not yet been in this part of the mansion but he focused on the group leaving instead of getting details. Chris had a gun in his hand at this point. “You won’t be coming back,” Chris told them evenly, then under his breath in a soft tone that only Peter could hear. “You won’t get out of these woods alive.”

Peter leaned in again to Chris, relishing his voice. God, it made him shiver. He wanted to whine and buck at the man’s leg and promise to be good.

Melissa watched with interest.   
  
The hunters disappeared out the door. They didn’t come in a car, they would have to find their way out. Chris turned to Peter. “You spent two hours with them and have their scents.”   


He ran his hand up and down the wolf’s arm.    
  
Peter’s eyes glowed gold and Chris tugged him closer.   
  
“I don’t think he’s ready yet, Chris.” Melissa warned.    
  
“I don’t have the luxury of waiting. I need that knife.” Chris shrugged. He traced Peter’s bottom lip and let the wolf lick at his fingers and growl softly. “You want to prove yourself, don’t you? You want to taste blood.”   
  
Peter nodded.   
  
“Find them, and bring me back the knife. You saw it at the beginning of the dinner, when she showed it. Do you know what it is?”   
Peter nodded. “Deucalion’s dagger.”   
  
“Good boy, you really are different.” Chris chuckled ruthlessly. “The very one that almost killed him once. It’s enchanted to the Demon Wolf’s blood. You’re right, Melissa. I might just have to keep him.”

“Don’t make him go, Chris.” Melissa lowered her rifle.   


“He’s a werewolf.” Chris frowned at her as he kept stroking Peter’s face, distracting him. “They live to kill. He just doesn’t know the pleasure of it yet. I’m giving him that.”    


Melissa lowered her gaze and looked at the floor. “His eyes don’t turn bright blue, Chris. They turn gold.”

“Since when are you soft?” Chris looked at her in annoyance. He watched thoughtfully as Peter sank to his knees and lapped his fingers. 

“Just tell him to get the dagger, don’t tell him to kill.” Implored Melissa.   


Chris exhaled and glared hard at the woman. She was the only one able to talk back to him and question his orders. The only one.    


“Very well,” Chris gave her an exasperated look and lifted Peter’s chin up. “Get the dagger. Don’t kill anyone.” He reached behind Peter’s neck and unlatched the collar. 

Peter groaned as the needles came out of him. He twitched slightly and blinked several times as his body adjusted. “Don’t kill?” He couldn’t get his brain to function. He was free, he should be killing  _ them _ .

Chris dragged a finger down Peter’s jaw and held his chin very tightly. “Don’t kill them. Bring me the dagger.”  There was a subtle undertone in his voice. Don’t kill them didn’t mean he couldn’t cause serious damage. He let Peter’s chin free and scuffed at the mountain ash over the threshold. “Go!”

Peter rubbed the sore skin of his neck and shook himself. Energy coursed through him, his face changed as the wolf could finally emerge. Melissa took a slight step back as he howled. He dashed to the door and briefly dug his claws into the frame in some attempt to fight Chris’ control over him. 

It wasn’t even magical. 

He shook his head as he tried to clear it. The scent of the other hunters was easy to make out. He didn’t once look over his shoulder as he left. His claws left scratch marks in the wood of the door frame. 

In the back of his head he heard someone scream and it took a while for him to realize that had been him. He should be getting as far away as possible. Instead all he could focus on was the words in his head from Chris Argent.    
_ Bring me the dagger. _

Peter tried clearing his head and found that didn’t work too well. He could only focus on one thing, the dagger. If he got the dagger, Chris would be pleased. He would be that much closer to rescuing Erica. He sniffed the air and caught the scent pretty quickly. It was great to be out in the forest again and breathe in the freshness of it. He flexed and growled at the night sky. He was a predator, the top of the food chain. He had claws that could rip through bone and strength that could penetrate rock. Right now he wasn’t at his strongest. He could feel his neck beginning to heal.  He felt it slightly odd that he was healing as quickly as he was and wondered if there hadn’t been something in the wine that he’d been drinking. 

He felt strong. 

He listened very carefully and could hear them moving in the forest. The hunters and the woman whose perfume was strong. They didn’t know Peter had already got ahead of them. They found their way to the gates where their cars were parked but Peter had already slashed their tires and taken out two of the watchers. He stood there waiting. Blood was dripping from his claws and teeth and there was a very nearly manic expression in his eyes.  He hadn’t killed them. He had taken them out. 

They opened fire and Peter sprang back into action. He felt alive when the blood rushed through his claws and filled his nostrils. It wasn’t his own blood, either. He howled and charged, broke bone and bent steel. The fight didn’t last very long as they were unprepared for a werewolf in his condition. It last long enough for Peter to crawl on top of the woman who had insulted Chris and wrap his claws around her throat. He didn’t squeeze yet. “Remember this.” Peter whispered at her, blood dripping from his mouth. “I let you live.”  

He reached into her jacket and pulled out the knife. 

“Who are you?” Noelle shuddered. “Why would you help him? He murders your kind. If you let me I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Peter snarled at her. 

Noelle’s eyes opened wide once she recognized Peter. “I know who you are, you’re Peter Hale. Alpha Talia’s missing brother. Your sister has been looking for you! I knew I recognized your face.” she panted heavily as she struggled against him. 

Peter’s mind went temporarily blank for a moment when she mentioned his Alpha.

It would be so easy to close his fingers and squeeze. Then she wouldn’t be a threat to Chris Argent. She wouldn’t be able to tell his pack where he was. He seriously considered it.    
_ Bring me back the dagger. _

“He’s got you under some kind of control.” Noelle tried to reason with him. “Whatever it is, it’s not real. He’ll eventually kill you.”   


“Shut up, shut up!”  He didn’t want her to recognize him. He struggled as he tried to contain the beast inside. Chris said not to kill them. He said, but he didn’t know that she knew who Peter was.    


“You’re not a murderer, Peter Hale.”   


“You know nothing about me!” Peter cried. His hand shook. He wanted badly to squeeze the life out of her.   
_ Don’t kill anyone. _

Oh but he wanted badly to tear into her flesh and bathe the woods in blood.    


“Your eyes are still gold, Peter.” Noelle wheezed under his grasp. “You can fight this.”   


_ Don’t kill anyone. _   


If he returned with blood on his hands, Chris would be angry.

He shuddered and pulled his hand back from her throat. “You did not see me.” He could not kill her but he could make sure she would be under for a long time.    


She screamed when his claws raked across her face and neck and she continued to scream when he stood up and looked down at her mercilessly. 

“Remember that I let you live.” Peter told her coldly as he exhaled. He closed his eyes and opened them again. He looked at the dagger in his hands. The artifact that was supposed to be linked to Deucalion’s blood. He sniffed at it and and snarled.  All he could see was blood, but  _ No one was killed. _

Chris went to his parlor and sat down in front of a large fireplace. He’d taken some cognac with him while Melissa cleaned up. He fingered the collar between his fingers and stared at it morosely. Perhaps he’d let Peter go too soon.  He flexed his hand, the one that Peter had nuzzled and licked. There was just something about him, something different. Chris drank. None of his other captives had been as interesting and as defiant at the same time. No one had actually tried to turn the tables on him. 

Peter was young and brilliant. He had stored information in his head about antiques when most kids his age would just be thinking about who they were going to fuck next.  He’d seen the news articles too. The cops were involved because Peter was a high profile teenager. He’d made something of a mistake with this one. The Hale family was rich and powerful and there was no telling how many were werewolves. Talia Hale had even recorded a plea on television for anyone who had any information about her younger brother.  He had the teeth and claws of many wolves he’d mutilated just before the final kill. They were all sitting on his mantelpiece, and decorating shelves in his parlor like trophies. Each labeled and each one was an Alpha or an Alpha’s mate. Fourteen total. Others were located in his workshop downstairs, less important werewolves, Betas and Omegas. He didn’t remember how many he had killed but he remembered every Alpha or their mate. 

He stared at one in particular. Erica Reyes. An Alpha’s mate he’d come across by chance. She was his first true prize. The Alpha himself, Chris had killed. Vernon Boyd had been his name. . Boyd had died protecting Erica, and Chris had taken her into his dungeon. She’d pleaded with him, seduced him even calmed his rage for a time. But one day she saw her chance and tried to escape. It was a day he didn’t like to remember because that would mean admitting to himself that he was a monster. That would mean admitting that his crusade against Deucalion didn’t justify his methods. 

_ “You’re dead inside, Christopher.” Erica had laughed at him with blood gurgling from her mouth.  _

_ “You will always be dead inside. What will you do when  you find someone your heart beats for again? Nothing. You’re dead inside.” _   
He looked up suddenly when he heard a low growl. Peter was standing in the doorway, drenched in blood. He was shuddering.  In one hand was the dagger, and in the other he held something else.    
  
“I thought I told you not to kill anyone.” Chris’ eyes roamed over Peter’s body. The clothes were sticking to him. The bandages on his feet were now tattered about his feet.    


“I didn’t kill anyone.” Peter snorted and stalked forward and dropped the contents in his hand onto the table. One eye, distinctly recognizable as Noelle’s squished onto the wood surface. With a dramatic shrug of his shoulders Peter drove the dagger both through the eye and the wooden tabletop. 

Chris had never been so turned on in his entire life. He had been turned on by Peter before but never so fucking much.   
_ What will you do when you find someone your heart beats for again? _

He was utterly breathtaking and Chris was speechless. He picked up the collar from the couch and Peter came forward. He could tell that much of Peter had healed already with the help of the drug that Melissa had put in the wine. He had such a beautiful neck. It seemed almost a shame to hide it under the collar.   
  
Peter stood there and waited expectantly. His lip twitched at the edge in a snarl but he didn’t move. He locked gazes with Chris as the man reached up to buckle the collar on. He grimaced in pain when the needles broke his healed skin and the wolfsbane mixture flowed into him again.  He stood still as long has he could. The only indication that he was in extreme pain was the expression on his face. He clenched his fist and shuddered. He knew that it was only a matter of seconds before Chris electrocuted him to destroy the strength he had gained. 

Instead of pressing that button Chris gripped his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. 

The surprised sound he made came out like a plaintive whine and he sank into Chris’ arms. The man’s tongue was merciless as it dominated his mouth. Peter knew he could grow fangs. He knew he could resist but he didn’t want to. It was wrong on so many levels and yet he just wanted more.  It was a purely instinctual reaction, it had to be. He didn’t want the kiss to end. He felt a bubbling of nerves and anxiety deep in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to displease the man but he didn’t know what Chris liked. He didn’t  _ know _ how to please him. He wanted to know, he really really wanted to know. 

“Clothes off.” Chris ordered between kisses and licks to Peter’s lips. He tugged at the v-neck. “Okay,” smirked Peter. He gripped Chris’ shirt and and tore it off, then pulled off his own.    
Chris took a step back in surprise but recovered quickly. He stood still while Peter put his still bloody hands on Chris’ hips and leaned in to kiss his chest. It was a strange feeling. The only other person in recent years to willingly touch him had been Melissa. This was different. It wasn’t mindless pleasure. He actually liked it. No, not just like. His body was reacting in ways he hadn’t since long before his wife was killed. It wasn’t just going through the motions. His dick wasn’t just reacting. 

Peter’s tongue licked across and down his chest with teasing little circles. “Please, Chris.” Peter whispered. He stared at the hunter with wide, bright eyes and a desperate look. He kissed his way down Chris’ stomach and pulled his pants down with him as he crouched on his heels. With wide, pleading eyes he stared up. “I want to suck you.”  
  
Chris toed off his shoes and got out of his pants. He reached down and gripped Peter by the hair with one hand. He’d be an idiot to let Peter’s mouth anywhere near his dick and he wasn’t going to trust him that much. Though the temptation to do so was strong he was nobody’s fool. He’d already let Peter’s claws shred a shirt. “Not today,” he shook his head.   
“Get on your hands and knees.”  
  
“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me up against a wall so you can stick your tongue down my throat?” Peter waited where he was.  
  
“Are you challenging me?” Chris demanded, his tone laced with annoyance.

Peter shook his head smugly. “Just offering options.”  He moved to assume the position required without a fight.

Chris could easily tell that Peter was just as hard as he was. It was the adrenalin rush after spilling blood, he supposed. There weren’t any feelings here. Erica was wrong. He couldn’t ever feel anything about anyone ever again. He certainly wouldn’t let this frustrating contradiction before him manipulate him into them. In one smooth motion he dragged off Peter’s pants.

“Are you going to fuck me or just stare at my ass?” Peter wondered.   
  
Chris spit onto his hands. It would have to do. “That’s persian,” Chris noted in annoyance when he saw Peter’s claws digging into the carpet.   
  
“I know,” Peter gritted his teeth. “Is that all you got?” He was referring to the effort Chris’ fingers were making to work him open, naturally.  
  
“So impatient.” Chris clucked his tongue and shoved his finger in farther.   
  
“All I really want is your cock, dammit.” Peter snarled back at him. 

“As you wish.” Chris smirked and pulled his finger out. Peter was nowhere near ready but the pup was being insolent and demanding. He used the slick of his precum and positioned himself. “Remember that this is what you wanted.”

And Chris shoved into him with a harsh cry. Peter braced himself on his arms and swore loudly. Pain laced up his back and Chris reached around to grab his cock and hold it. His other hand gripped Peter’s shoulder. The position he used forced the wolf to bear the weight of his whole body with that first thrust. Peter’s arms shook from the pressure at first but he held them both up. “Yeah,” Peter growled as sweat dripped from his forehead. He was going to feel every moment of this thanks to the Wolfsbane flowing through him. His insides screamed at him. “Again.”

Chris didn’t like being given orders but at the moment he saw no downside to obliging the wolf’s request. He pulled nearly all the way out, spurred on by the way Peter clawed at the carpet and trembled. “You’re not coming until I tell you to.” Chris kept a hold on the wolf’s cock and grinned at the whine he received in response. The next time he pushed himself in he didn’t hold anything back and Peter’s scream was music to his ears. 

“Chris-,” Peter panted. “Don’t stop.”

Chris had no intention of stopping. He eased up on Peter’s cock and instead of squeezing it he began to stroke and pull. “Come on, baby.” He whispered in Peter’s ear. “I want to hear all the sounds you can make.”

Peter didn’t hold back. He could feel Chris working him and adjusting to hit his prostrate and it almost felt real. Stars flickered behind his eyes again and god but the couldn’t help the sounds. He wailed when Chris pulled all the way out again and slammed back in. Peter struggled to keep himself up, he fought to push back every time Chris pushed in. He wanted to meet him move for move. “Chris! Chris!” He couldn’t think.   
  
Chris rarely lost himself when he was doing this. He never let his emotions run away from him. He never cared. He only ever purposefully tried to make it feel good because it was a means to an end. Something was different tonight and he should stop this but he didn’t want to. It was building inside him like it always did, his release. When it usually happened he felt relief but nothing like this. There was never anything like this euphoric haze. Maybe it was a mixture of the blood, the sounds Peter was making or the fact that he was one hundred percent invested in Chris continuing to fuck his perfect ass. Chris wasn’t sure. All he knew is that there was no way he was pulling out and he did something he never did. He closed his eyes and let the build up continue. 

Peter came hard in Chris’ palm, all over the persian rug. He panted and whined and his arms felt like jelly, pain and pleasure washed together and had taken over his body. At this point he wasn’t sure which was which.

Chris spilled into Peter not long after the wolf did. He pulled out, stood up and moved to refill his cognac. Peter turned around to lay on the back of his arms and watch him. Without looking back, Chris grunted. “Did I tell you you could move?”

Peter groaned and immediately resumed his prior position.    
Chris walked around the study and began to put his clothes back on, sans shirt since Peter had shredded it. He picked up the dagger and studied it. “Get up, Peter.” 

Peter got to his feet. 

“Why did you come back?” Chris looked at him.

“We were hunting Deucalion when you captured me. I want him just as much as you do.” Peter responded with a grunt. 

“That’s not why you came back.” Chris poured another drink. “Drink?”    
Peter walked gingerly over to the couch. Chris grabbed his ruined shirt and tossed it down so Peter could sit on it. He accepted the drink from Chris and coughed at the aftertaste.

Chris laughed softly, “never had cognac?”

Peter shook his head and made a face. “Wine mostly.”

“By this time they’re broken.” Chris grunted and gestured at Peter. “But not _ you _ . You’re here  _ willingly. _ You came back.” He gestured at the shelves. “Look around you, Peter.” 

Peter hadn’t quite registered the details of the parlor yet but when Chris pointed it out he soon recognized what the hunter meant. “You shouldn’t have come back for me and I should kill you.” Chris pulled the eye out of the dagger and let it fall onto the table. 

Peter looked from one name to the next, he recognized many of them. They were people who had been at various Werewolf gatherings. Some missing recently, some for years. His eyes narrowed on one in particular. Erica Reyes. 

“I will kill you.” Chris stared at the dagger. “On the full moon like all the rest. Unless Melissa is right, unless you are special and you can get me Deucalion.”

“Deucalion killed my niece Laura.” Peter said softly. “That’s why the pack was hunting him the night you captured me. We’d expanded our search area. I know his scent. I want him as badly as you do.” He hadn’t been paying attention to the name plates attached to the gruesome displays until now.  His eyes remained fixed on Erica Reyes. “You know why I came back. You promised to let Erica free if I helped you get Deucalion. I know a spell.” He gestured towards the eye. “It requires the eye of someone with witch blood. I smelled it on her the moment she noticed what you were doing to me at the dinner table.”

“Your full of surprises, aren’t you?” Chris raised an eyebrow as he studied Peter in a new light, impressed and if they hadn’t just had sex he’d be turned on. “Are you really only eighteen?”

“I know things,” shrugged Peter. “My sister’s the Alpha, I sit in on pretty much every meeting. Anyway, this spell. You have the dagger, I have his scent and we have the eye of someone with witch blood. We can pinpoint his general location but the trick is.” He gave Chris a low growl and went into an explanation of the spell itself which impressed Chris.

A few drinks later after the explanation Peter edged closer. “The spell has to be done on the full moon, which means. So you’re can’t kill me after all.”  Chris hadn’t pulled away. There was something different in the hunter’s demeanor. Something open, vulnerable. Something raw and emotional. A weakness. It was the first time Peter had ever seen a weakness in Chris Argent. He sniffed and listened closely. Chris’ heart was beating faster then normal. Peter was young but he was also smart. He was perhaps one of the smartest wolves in his whole pack. He could tell an opportunity when he saw one.  “However.” He leaned in a little further as though he was going to kiss the hunter.

Chris didn’t pull away or adjust his stance until Peter’s next words. He gave Peter an expectant look and parted his lips. 

“ _ I  _ don’t necessarily need  _ you _ .” Peter lifted up one hand, let his claws slowly come out and lunged. Perhaps if he hadn’t seen all the claws and teeth on display. Perhaps if Erica Reyes’ name hadn’t been there he might have held back. Perhaps he should have remembered the collar. 

Peter screamed as a compartment in his neck was activated and a stronger dose of Wolfsbane filled his blood. He collapsed on the floor as his veins turned black and he passed out from the pain. 

The last thing he remembered was the sad look in Chris’ eyes and excruciating pain. He actually looked unhappy instead of angry. “I’m sorry, Peter.” he said softly.

*   
“Peter?” 

Peter blinked as he looked up at the face of his sister, Talia Hale.

“Oh my god, Peter, you’re alive!” Peter could tell that he was in his own bedroom at the Hale House in Beacon Hills. Talia was hugging him and holding him tightly.  “Everythings going to be okay, baby. You’re home safe now. Back in Beacon Hills.”

“What happened?” Peter asked weakly. 

“We don’t know, someone found you in an abandoned building they say used to be a hunter’s lair. They say you’d been tortured. Someone called in a tip and that’s how we found you. You’ve been out for a long time. I didn’t know if you would come back to us.” Talia stroked her brother’s hair gently. “There were so many drugs in your system. Deaton said you had been given Wolfsbane on a constant basis. You’ve been starved and beaten. You’ve only just begun to heal. What happened? Who did this to you?”   
Peter closed his eyes and turned away from his sister. Why had Chris gotten rid of him? Why hadn’t he just thrown him back in the dungeon? He had failed Erica. He couldn’t help himself. The opportunity had presented itself and he had to take it. Chris’ guard had been down.

“Oh Peter,” Talia petted his shoulder gently. “You take all the time you need. We’re going to find the hunter who did this to you.  We’ll find him and destroy him.”

His heart ached at the words.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have fallen in love with Christopher Argent. 

**TBC**   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates for this fic will be slow. It is somewhat difficult to write. :) Thank you for reading! I will write more for next chapter.

Peter spent the next day in bed numb and deeply depressed. He didn’t talk to anyone in the pack, even his nephew Derek who was closest to him in age. Dr Alan Deaton had been called to assess his condition several times and yet no one could get him to talk about what happened and he barely ate.

He should hate Chris. He should hate everything that happened to him. He barely ate, further causing his sister to worry. His body soon began to return to normal but he was markedly different. The arrogant swagger was gone and know-it-all eyes were haunted and reproachful. He flinched whenever someone tried to touch him and had a tendency to stare off at nothing. 

Sometimes he could see Erica in the shadows. One day he was alone in the living room an untouched book in his lap.   _ “You left me here, Peter.”   _ He clearly heard Erica’s voice in the shadowy corner of the room. 

“Give him time, Talia.” Alan talked in the kitchen to Peter’s sister. Peter could over hear it of course. “He’s strong.  He’ll come through.”

“He’s a shadow of his former self.” Talia said with a sigh. “What more have you got for me on this Argent?” 

_ “You left me here, with him. Peter.” _

“Not too much. His entire family was decimated by Werewolves under the orders of Deucalion. He’s wealthy but actually  _ Persona Non Grata  _ in the hunter community. A group went off to make him surrender to them for trial and wound up regretting it. You know that they claim Peter was the one who caused all the damage. On Argent’s orders.”

“Do you think he brainwashed him?” Talia sipped her tea. “Let him go for a reason?” 

“I think that’s a high possibility.” Deaton nodded. “He had Peter long enough that he could trigger him. We’ll never know for sure. I recommend you keep him locked up, Talia.” 

“I’m not going to do that.” Talia shook her head. “He’s been through too much already. He’s just a boy, Alan.”

Peter tuned them out and focused on the shadows in the living room instead. They comforted him somehow. He could make out Erica’s face and when he could do that he could feel Chris’ hands on him. He knew his pack was planning to deliver retribution against the man and they wanted him to help them find him. Only Peter could pick up the man’s scent. 

But they didn’t understand. 

He didn’t want to find Chris, he wanted to find Deucalion, kill him and bring Chris his head. He couldn’t go back to Chris empty-handed. He’d already screwed up once and he wasn’t going to do the same thing again. Peter ran a hand through his hair and once again ignored Dr Deaton when he tried to ask questions. All he said was “I’m hungry, Talia.”

“At least he wants to eat now.” Talia sighed. “Come on, Peter.” She took her brother to the kitchen where he sat down and pulled his shirt back on. “What would you like?”

_ You’ll eat when I feed you. _

Peter shuddered momentarily. “I.” He gave Talia a desperate look which quickly shifted into one of frustration. “I don’t care. I’ll eat what you feed me.”

Talia took out some left overs and heated them up. She put some water and juice on the table then set some silverware down and gave him the plate. Deaton watched the entire time. Talia sat down opposite him eventually. “You’re safe now, Peter.” She told her brother gently. 

Peter ignored the utensils and proceeded to eat without them or his hands while his sister looked on in dismay. 

“Conditioning.” Deaton confirmed. “We don’t know what else he did yet unless Peter tells us. I won’t know how deep it is for a while.”

“Come on, Peter.” Talia said gently. “You’re home. You don’t have to do what he told you.” When she got her hands on Christopher Argent, he wasn’t going to die quickly. 

Peter looked up from the plate after licking some sauce off the meat she’d given him. 

“Should I use the alpha voice, Alan?” Talia asked.

“No,” Deaton shook his head. 

“I’m going to rip that man’s spine out of his throat when I get my hands on him.” Talia growled. She reached over and cut up the big chunks of meat for Peter.

“Deucalion.” Peter muttered between bites. “Need to find Deucalion. I have his scent.”

“Wouldn’t we all.” Talia grumbled. She hated the Demon Wolf. He’d caused so many problems for her kind in his cycle of revenge.

“Chris has a way to kill him.” Peter said mildly. “He needs me though.”

“What do you mean? If he still needs you why did set you free?” Talia wondered.

“Because when he let his guard down and I had the opportunity I tried to kill him.”  Peter shrugged. 

Talia’s heart swelled with pride, her little brother was still there. He’d fought. He hadn’t caved easily. She reached over to touch him but he flinched back away from her and bared his teeth.  

_ Only Chris could touch him.  _

Peter growl turned into a full blown snarl at his own sister. 

*

“You think that they’ll ever figure it out?” Melissa asked with soft sigh. “That what they came to was the decoy?” 

“Peter might, we drugged him enough that he didn’t know one way or the other when we took him through the tunnels.” Chris considered, “but they won’t.”

“You put a lot of faith in him.” Melissa shrugged. 

Chris Argent always had a backup plan. 

“You should not have let him go, Chris.” Melissa didn’t like the idea of living underground and Chris had been extremely grumpy ever since Peter left. Grumpier than usual, anyway. 

“You can always leave, Melissa. I’m not forcing you to stay with me. You could go back to your life. Nobody knows what you’ve done.” 

“I’m not leaving you alone!” Melissa glared at him. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

“Maybe that’s the point.” Chris shrugged. “I have one goal in life, Melissa. One goal. I need to feel Ducalion’s blood spilling out of his body. Nothing else matters.”

“Except Peter Hale.” Melissa told him boldly.

Chris grimaced and almost raised a hand to backhand her across the face. She held up her arms to block him but the blow never came. Instead he clenched his fist and slowly brought it back down to rest against the table. “He is  _ nothing _ to me! A means to an end. That is  _ all. _ ”  He shuddered. 

“Chris, please.” Melissa begged him. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you let anyone go. You wanted to show him off. You liked him. You felt something, I know you did.”

Chris growled at her. She was right, and that is what hurt. He hadn’t felt anything for anyone since his family died. He hadn’t felt anything other than anger. But Peter? Peter had been special. Peter had been perfect. Peter had come back to him and then tried to kill him. That just showed how special he was. He still had spirit left. Chris had wanted to do so many things with that boy and he didn’t have time. The full moon had come and gone and he’d been forced to abandon the mansion. For the first time in his life he didn’t want just to kill Deucalion. He wanted Peter back.

“I already have a plan in place.” Chris grunted. “It started the moment he mentioned Erica Reyes. He thinks she’s alive and he’ll want to come back for her. He’ll be back at least for her if nothing else. He wants Deucalion too and he’ll want the dagger. He’ll come back. If he’s as good as he says he is, his nose will find me.”

“And what if he still wants to kill you?” Melissa asked.

 

“He won’t.” Chris shook his head. 

  
*TBC*


End file.
